


joyeux noël à toi mon ange

by youknowmyname



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Huddling For Warmth, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28329510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youknowmyname/pseuds/youknowmyname
Summary: It's Christmas in Bastogne and you make Eugene's world feel normal for a moment.
Relationships: Eugene Roe/Reader, Eugene Roe/You
Comments: 4
Kudos: 6





	joyeux noël à toi mon ange

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr!
> 
> No warnings ahead. Gender neutral reader. 
> 
> It's Christmas day and here I am, sitting at my desk as I drink dunkin and write fanfiction. Christmas felt kinda normal this year, but it was very nice. I feel like I'm slowly coming out of my writer's block. I have thousands of ideas, but will I play my Nintendo switch or will I ever write? We may never know...merry christmas/happy holidays y'all!!

The Holidays were always a pleasant memory in your mind. Leading up until Christmas day, the thrill of December made your cheeks warm. You closed your eyes, and as it flashed in the darkness, children laughing, the smell of pinewood and hot chocolate, a small gust of wind hitting against the window during a snowstorm, wrapped paper spread all over the ground. It was like that every year in your home with your overbearing parents, thousands of gifts that you didn’t need, and your siblings running around with their new toys. What you didn’t know is that you took that for granted. 

Fluttering your eyes back open, you jumped back into your unfortunate reality. Instead of opening gifts and overeating, you were scrunched into a wet, dirt-filled foxhole. Not only were you cold, but your hand ached. There was an extended cut in your palm, but it had dried and frozen over. You ignored it to the best of your ability. Heavy flurries rained down onto the sky, finessing against your exposed skin as you shivered. You held your rifle close to your body, but nothing was keeping you warm. Snow used to be a pleasant memory, and it was now something you despised. You were beyond drained, emotionally, and physically. There had been so much blood and loss in the past few hours, and it was hard to follow along. Men you considered family died left and right as the guilt tug at your heart. 

It seemed like a Christmas Miracle that the trees were exploding. It was eerily calm in Bastogne. You were far away from the company, nestled in a foxhole that was opposite to the Germans. The only noise that you heard was the wind and the muffled melodies coming from the Germans. You zoned out as your eyes stayed on the line, your gun by your side. A shell could hit you, and you’d be gone. It could be long and painful or short and quick. It was bittersweet, but if you were going to die, you wanted it to be over with—a flash of your life between your eyes and then darkness. Death wasn’t something you ever imagined yourself thinking about, especially at a young age. But here you were in Bastogne, freezing as you waited for an occurrence. 

Instead of a shell, you heard distant footsteps walk towards your foxhole. Whoever was next to you plopped right next to you as their more prominent shoulder cuddled against your shaking one. You didn’t think much of it and just stared into the distance as everything became blurry and your eyes stung with tears. You would do anything to be back at home right now. 

“Everything okay?” The voice said-a thick Cajun accent. You could hear it intrude into your thoughts, but you couldn’t move. Your eyes swelled as you sniffled your nose, shaking as you watched the tall trees and snow fade into mushy colors of black and white. 

The Thick, Cajun voice came from Eugene. He softened his expression as he looked at you, shaking and trying to hold in your icy tears. Your lips quivered as your nails, bloodied and jagged, dug into the cold metal of your gun. 

Eugene froze for a second as he grasped his thoughts, all eyes on you. He was usually distant from the group. Not because he didn’t want to be friendly, but the thought of losing another person with the gut-wrenching feeling wasn’t worth taking. It had been put into his mind since day one. You, however, were different. Kindness was something that war wasn’t associated with. You were a warming force in the cold night to Eugene; your smile or laughter with a snort would make him melt. But instead, you were holding back tears, and it was tearing Eugene up.

Licking his chaps lips, Eugene scooted over and bumped your shoulder. He sunk into the collar of his jacket as he looked into your [y/e/c]. “Y/n?”

Once again, you jumped back into reality as Eugene’s voice jumped out at you. It wasn’t even loud but a small call of your name. Fixing your position, you wipe your red nose and crystal eyes, nodding your head. “Yeah?” You managed to spit out as you held back tears.

You moved your hand away from your face, moving it downwards to your gun. Instead of feeling the cold metal brush against your skin, your hand was caught by a soft and warm hand. You turn your head over to Eugene, who is furrowing his eyebrows at your bloodied hand. 

“Hey, hey…” He interjected as he exclaimed in your tiny hand with a long cut in the palm in his bigger one. His index finger stroked your tiny one as you looked at him with a blame expression. “How’d you do that?”

Freezing for a second, you thought about how you got the cut. It was all so blurry to you but involved a bunch of screaming, blood, and pain. You had caught your hand onto a barbed wire while with Eugene. You looked at your hand, which rested above Eugene’s, as you saw the large cut. You shrugged your shoulders and let out a sigh, “I forget. I think I was rushing.” 

Eugene remembered it. Shells were going off left and right, and you grunted as hot blood spilled from your hand. He tried to run back to you, but he had to aid dying men. Biting his lip, he responded as he grabbed his bag, digging for supplies. “I’ll fix it up.” 

Pulling out a cloth, Eugene held up a blue cloth. Out of the black trees and white snow, the Olympic blue headscarf shined. It reminded him of the kind nurse that he had formed a friendship with it. The last time he ever saw her, she smiled at him as he went back into combat. Renee was her name-an an angel from heaven. Like y/n, she was a kind soul. Caring. Her touch made men and women soften. Both of you had bloodied hands, talking about how you never wanted to see a dead man again. Renee was a nurse; you were a soldier. Both of you lead different lives, but you had one thing in common; you were angels. 

Eugene sat there, holding the cloth up. You noticed him freeze and turned over, nudging his shoulder back. “Gene?”

“It’s for you, a gift... _Joyeux Noël_ ,” Eugene said, putting the cloth in your hand, “I was gonna get ya’ somethin’ for you in Paris, but we never got ‘dere. I know I’m doin’ this wrong, but-”

A smile grew on your face as you admired the scarf. You looked at Eugene and hid behind the scarf, concealing your blush. “It’s perfect...thank you” You thanked, “I had no idea you would do this, or that for the matter. But thank you, Eugene.” 

Eugene watched your every move as you took off your helmet and tied the scarf on. He didn’t know how to word it, but you looked gorgeous. You were one of the most beautiful people Eugene had ever seen, and you didn’t even have to try. From your kindness to your natural beauty, Eugene knew he was in love with you. That warm feeling with his heart racing, cheeks growing and softened expressions. You softly smiled, turning to Eugene. Your smile was his weakness. 

“ _You're_ perfect, y/n.” He muttered as he scaled your body, his cheeks redder than his nose. Your hand-sculpted perfectly into his bigger one as he squeezed it. You didn’t even need to respond as you smiled, holding out your bloodied hand. In Bastogne was the angel and medic in a foxhole on Christmas day, smiles exchanged as they held hands. 

Eugene held your hand and nearly forgot that you had a large cut. The two of you shared a small moment of peace before jumping back into Bastogne. You threw your helmet back on as Eugene found a dirty bedcloth and tore it, still holding your hand.

You sat there quietly as Eugene worked on wrapping your hand. A smile was spread on your face. To be fair, Eugene had that same smile. Eugene and your shoulders collided as he slung an arm to pull you closer. _For body warmth, obviously._

“Hey, doc?” You mentioned. 

He turned over, raising an eyebrow, “Yeah?”

“You called me y/n again.” Eugene wasn’t one for nicknames. He always addressed you by y/r/n or y/l/n, never y/n. He did this to everyone, but this time was different. The two of you were different around each other. The way Eugene said in his accent made you weak in your knees. You wanted to hear him say your name thousands and thousands of times.

Eugene’s lips curled as he continued to wrap your tiny hand. “Yeah…” He looked down before looking back into your eyes. You’re big and gorgeous [y/e/c]. The headscarf matched well with your [y/h/l] [y/h/c] and soft [y/s/c}. Everything about you was perfect in Eugene’s angel. Y/n, the perfect angel. 

“Y/” You playfully mimicked, deepening your voice. You chuckled when Eugene nudged your hip side. 

“Y/r/n” Gene said in loving exasperation, a smile on his face as well.” “Watch the godamn line.”

You and Eugene sat in the foxhole together as he wrapped your hand while you watched the line. The Krauts sung Christmas carols as Eugene pulled you close to him. You leaned into his shoulder as sung you _Les Anges dans nos campagnes._

And the world felt calm in that little moment you shared with Eugene of stolen bunny kisses, a headscarf, and Eugene’s soothing singing voice. You didn’t understand the words he whispered into your hair in French, but you did understand one word. 

_“Joyeux noël à toi mon ange,_ ” He murmured as he left a small kiss on your cheek. 

You still kept your eyes on the line as you once again buried yourself into his shoulder. “Merry Christmas to you too, Eugene.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> joyeux noël à toi mon ange - merry christmas my angel 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! A comment/kudos would be nice please and thank you <3


End file.
